


Dumb Love

by hnw_1999



Series: JV prompts [3]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angry! Jerome, Arguing, F/M, Fighting, French Kissing, Jerome throwing things, Kissing, Making Up, Reader-Insert, Sassy Reader, Straddling, mild verbal abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 09:13:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7526926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hnw_1999/pseuds/hnw_1999
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You and Jerome had been fighting for days. Not over anything big or important, just little things that had you snapping at each other back and forth all day. Tonight though, you found out that Jerome had spent $800 worth of rent money... On a fucking gun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dumb Love

You and Jerome had been fighting for days. Not over any one thing in particular, but just little things that had the two of you snapping at each other all day. Little things like him leaving empty bottles and cartons in the refrigerator or pantry, or you bringing the car home with an empty gas tank. Little things that shouldn't have been starting fights, but had been doing so anyway because everything was building up.

 

Tonight, you had blown up on him for spending the rent money on a new gun. Why he would do such a thing, you had no idea. Now you were pacing inside the bedroom you and Jerome shared, and he was fuming in the living room about having to sleep on the lumpy excuse for a couch. You could hear him begin to yell and throw things around and went into the living room before he broke something of value in his rage.

 

You walked down the hall into the living room, only to nearly get a concussion from your late mother's favorite cookbook, soaring through the air and putting a hole in the wall next to you. You looked down at the book and back up at Jerome, who was tugging on his hair with both eyes closed tight, trying to contain his anger. 

 

"What the fuck, Jerome?" You all but yelled. His eyes slowly opened when he heard his full name find its way out of your mouth, him having gotten used to you calling him "J."

 

"Me?" He whispered. "You're asking ME what the fuck? How about what the fuck is wrong with you, Y/N? Huh? Who the hell are you to kick me out of my own goddamn room? I LET YOU MOVE IN HERE. THIS IS MY FUCKING HOUSE!"

 

By the time he was done yelling, he was seething and in your face. You could slightly understand where his anger was coming from. This apartment was the only thing he'd ever had to himself his entire life. Lila had always taken everything he had from him at some point or another, punishing him for things he never did. Now that Lila was dead and he had things of his own, he was extremely possessive of them. You had a good argument, though. One he couldn't counter.

 

"Your house? Look fucker, I didn't ASK you to let me live here. After mom died, YOU were the one who told me to stay with you. YOU were the one begging to help me. YOU were the one to convince me to stay. Don't sit here and get pissed at me because I need space from you right now. One night on the couch will not kill your ass," You said. "And if you cared about YOUR house so much, maybe you wouldn't have spent the last of the money for it on a fucking gun." 

 

He shot you a look that would've petrified anyone else in your place. However, you weren't afraid of him.

 

"Yeah, give me that fuckin' death glare you do when you don't get your way. You can try and intimidate me all you want but I know for sure that every morning, when you think I'm sleeping, you sneak outside to feed all the stray neighborhood cats." He chose to ignore your statement, but there was no hiding the flush of red that flooded his cheeks.

 

"Let me in the room." He said sternly.

 

"Return the gun, and I will." 

 

"Fuck you," He growled, turning around and kicking a box across the room.

"You're not gonna get to for a while if you don't calm the fuck down. What the hell are we supposed to do for money, J? $800. You spent $800, our only money for rent, on a Fucking. Gun."

 

"A GUN TO PROTECT YOUR RECKLESS ASS!" He exploded.

 

"I'm reckless?" You scoffed. "I'm the reckless one? Alright, Mister 'I'm gonna blow up a school bus solely for attention',"

 

"You are." He muttered, a dangerous glint in his anger crazed eyes. "Just in a different way,"

 

"Reckless is reckless, Jerome. I am not it." You persisted.

 

Jerome raised his eyebrows, beginning to look like a large angry leprechaun with how red his face was getting.

 

"You follow me on runs when I specifically tell you to stay behind. You put yourself in the line of fire, all the time, for God knows what reason. You go in public all the time without any sort of disguise or cover up, and for little meaningless things like picking up the newspaper. Who the fuck even reads those anymore, Y/N?" He ran his hands through his hair before sitting on the couch and holding his head in his hands. 

 

"I got the gun for you," he mumbled.

 

"Why?" You asked, a little more forcefully than you had intended.

 

"So you can protect yourself when I can't be there to do it myself,"

 

You pulled yourself away from the wall you were leaning on and moved to stand behind him.

 

"I appreciate it Jerome, but... Why the rent money?"

 

"All the money we had was assigned to bills, and I figured I shouldn't take the electric or water because those could get shut off if we don't pay and we need them. But we won't get kicked out if the rent is a little late for the first time," He explained.

 

"But J -" You stopped when you heard him heave a little sigh. He was only trying to help. You reached over the couch and ran a hand through his hair. "C'mon," you muttered. You grabbed his upper arm and pulled him up from his seat and gestured for him to follow you.

 

You led him to the bedroom and pointed to the bed, which he then moved to sit on. You closed the door and walked over to him, taking off your over-shirt along the way. You would've taken off all your clothes, but he didn't look like he was in the mood. You laid him down by his shoulders and straddled him.

 

"Thank you for the gun, baby," you said, kissing his forehead. "Next time, just make sure we have a little extra money, okay?" He averted his gaze but gave your hip a squeeze to let you know he understood.

 

You cupped his face in your hands, leaning down to catch his lips with yours. He responded quickly, kissing you back with a content sigh. He slid his tongue over yours slowly before pulling away.

 

You moved one of your hands to his neck. You noticed a small red smudge underneath his ear and smirked.

 

"What?" He mumbled.

 

"You have blood under your ear,"

 

He got a confused look on his face before remembering the guy he had mugged earlier that day out of anger.

 

"Yeah... You pissed me off," He admitted with a smirk.

 

"I felt the same baby," you said, laying your head on his chest and pressing your face into his neck. "Thanks again for the gun, JJ. And I'm sorry. I love you," you whispered, trailing a finger down his neck.

 

"Love you too, doll," He said, before tugging you closer and falling asleep with you in his arms.


End file.
